


I've Learned To Be Ashamed

by Ravenclaw_Peredhel



Series: If I Should Fall [3]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Comfort/Angst, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Poor Maedhros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28345890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclaw_Peredhel/pseuds/Ravenclaw_Peredhel
Summary: Maedhros struggles a lot after Angband. He thinks Alassindë doesn't notice, but she does.
Relationships: Maedhros | Maitimo/Original Female Character(s)
Series: If I Should Fall [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023415
Kudos: 19





	I've Learned To Be Ashamed

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for general First Age issues.

He was late. Again. Merenel shifted uncomfortably, painfully aware that her husband had been awake when she had left their chambers this morning. At least, she thought he was - ever since he had begun to insist on sleeping in seperate rooms it had been a lot harder. Even if there was just a wall between them, she missed him terribly. He was pushing her away, and it hurt. For a moment she contemplated just leaving him to suffer, but the High King seemed irritated and a little worried and she sighed inwardly, excusing herself with a graceful if abrupt curtsey in his direction. He smiled absentmindedly at her, continuing his perusal of the map while Findek- Fingon talked quietly with Mak-Maglor. She really needed to get the names straight in her head.

The door to her husband's room was closed, but she could hear muffled imprecations coming through the door. She knocked gently, twice. "Go away. Tell Princess Alassindë I'm almost ready." Merenel flinched slightly. He had not called her such since the first day they had met and he had been painfully formal. 

"Maitimo." She did not particularly care for the ban - Himring was their own, where they ruled. Thingol's edicts could hardly be enforced here. 

"Alassindë." Then his voice hardened. "Go away." Instead, she pushed the door open. Maitimo was sitting in the middle of the floor, a ripped tunic in his hand, bright red hair spilling over his shoulders. She saw his scars and winced, and he must have felt it througj their fëa-bond, even though he had closed himself off from her, leaving her fëa to try and make up for his for their two growing children. Not that he had realised the repurcussions that particular action would have. "I said go away. I don't want your pity or your digust." 

"Maitimo..." Merenel realised that there was nothing she could say to convince him. Actions speak louder than words. With that in mind, she knelt before him, one hand reaching to touch his cheek and turn his face to look to her. He flinched as if he was burned when their skin made contact, and she couldn't hide the hurt quickly enough. 

"I am sorry. Please leave." She shook her head and rose, going towards his wardrobe. A dark red and gold tunic caught her eye and she grabbed it, coming back to her husband. He stood and lurched back when she tried to put the tunic around his shoulders."What are you doing?" Oh how it hurt to hear his voice so flat, his eyes so empty. 

"Aiding my husband, as our marriage vows promised vennonya. In sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live." This time he did not resist, but he flinched when her fingers brushed his scars, even though they were all long-healed, and only raised white weals. He swallowed and looked away. 

"You do not have to. I know I am no longer fair to look upon." Merenel could feel something coming. Something bad. "I...you do not have to feel that you must stay bound to me." And there it was. She stayed silent, trying to assemble the words to reply to him. Screaming at him would not help, but oh how it hurt and oh how she wanted to inflict some of that pain back onto him. Because how could he even think that she would ever do that. 

"You must be insane.'' Her voice was low and trembling, and he looked up startled, obviously feeling the hurt that was twanging about in her fëa. Could he not feel how exhausted she was? She was stretched thin, too thin trying to make up for the absence of his fëa for their two little, so little children. "What kind of faithless whore do you think I am? I love you Maitimo...always. Please, don't, don't cut yourself from me." He looked away, self-loathing written into every line of his face. 

"Alassindë, you need not prevaricate to spare my feelings. I know that I am no longer fair to look upon, nor the first son of the Crown Prince of the Noldor. I have nothing now to tie you to me.''

She nearly slapped him. "I am not so shallow!" Shouting helped. It helped a lot. "I did not marry you for your face, or your status. I married you because I love you. Why can you not get that through your head, you wonderful, stubborn idiot?" Finally, finally he seemed to get it. For the first time in a long time, he looked her in the eyes, and she saw hope dawning in the stormy grey depths. And then puzzlement. 

"Alassindë." His one hand, scar-roughened and still so carefully gentle with her, came to rest hesitantly against her cheek. "What...what happenee to your fëa?" 

"It matters not"

"Alassindë." He turned her face back towards him, still ever so gently, but inorexably. A sigh escaped her. 

"I am raising the children, that is all. You need time to heal, I understand that, and cannot bolster two growing children with your own fëa." A horrified look spread over his face. 

"You have been using your own fëa to provide for both of them...alone? Alassindë, meleth that is insane...this is my fault. I cut you all off, and I never thought...oh Elbereth, what have I done " She smiled gently and moved around to kneel behind him as he buried his face in his hand. 

"It is alright vennonya. I am not harmed, and you needed time to heal. It is alright." He shuddered at her hands on his hair, and she quickly pulled away. "Do you want me to leave still?"

"No! Please. Don't leave me, not again. Please...when I was there...you always left. Don't...please." His quiet pleading left a horrible sick ache in her heart, and she wanted to throw herself on him and embrace him with all her strength. But she could not, and so she limited herself to braiding his hair, slowly and carefully, making absolutely certain not to pull or tug it. 

"There." His stump made an aborted movement as though to rest his hand upon the one she laid comfortingly on his shoulder, and he grunted in frustration. Alassindë stood, and offered her hand to her husband, who stood and towered over her. She smiled and smoothed his face with her fingers, gently chasing away the worry lines. He leaned into her touch, and she could feel his tortured, broken fëa for the first time in so long. It was different to how it used to be, but it was him, and she could not surpress the giddy smile that came of finally, finally being able to feel him properly again. She took every single ounce of the love that she felt for him and poured it down the bond in a glowing brighr stream. 

"Alassindë..." Maedhros' eyes were wide and wet as he stared down at her, but she only smiled and pressed herself trustingly against him. One arm went about her, and she finally, finally felt safe. Oh how she had missed him. 

A gentle, feathery-light kiss was pressed to the top of her head, and she turned her face up, just in time to meet the next. It was light, and sweet, and nothing like how they usually kissed, but her heart sang to recieve it. Maybe, just maybe, her husband could heal.


End file.
